In Colbert's Studio Audience

The burning question: Would Steven Colbert be as cute in real life as he is on television?

The answer: A resounding yes.

On Monday, August 11, 2009, I showed up at 54th and 10th at 3 in the afternoon where 4 people had already lined up for standby tickets. The website said to get there at 4. A friend, however, assured me that I should be there much earlier than the advertised time. We're talking about a free event, in New York, in the summer. He was so right.

At 4, they started writing our names down and told us to come back at 5:15. At around 5:40, they started calling the names. About 7 people on standby line got in, and there must have been at least 25 rejects. My # was 68.



While we were in the holding pen where they do security and entertained us with old episodes of the Colbert Report, they gave us the ground rules and the run-down. "There are no food, drinks or cameras in the studio. Don't try to give Steven anything, or yell anything out, like 'Hi Grandma' or you'll be escorted out." Another stand-up comedian would come out first, "to warm us up." And then Steven would come out "out of character" for a question and answer session.

"This is the only time you'll see him out of character. You do know that this is a character, right?"

Right. . . Actually, I hadn't really thought about that.

Then they told us it was our job to laugh. "Steven comes from an improv background. He feeds off your energy." They made us hoop and cheer, and compared us with last night's audience. Our first whoop was lame in comparison, but the next beat them.


(Excuse the blur; it was taken with my clandestine camera.)

So I composed my question. . . "What guest surprised you the most?" Ummm. Kind of lame. He's probably already answered that a million times. . . . New question: "I recently moved to New York and will be teaching 9th grade in the South Bronx this year, what are your words of advice?" My Canadian queue-mates approved.

I didn't get a chair; I sat on the stairs on the side by the railing. The last three people had to stand. The stand-up comedian was okay; he just made fun of the people in the audience. But then Colbert came out. He ran around like he always does at the beginning of the show, kicking and flailing his arms, and making eyes at the special few. See me in the audience, at the top right, clapping my hands over my head.


(Thanks, Nate, for the screenshot!)

The first question was totally dumb: "Would you prefer a third nipple or an eleventh finger?" Since he was "out of character" he should have just made fun of her. But he's a nice person and entertained it. Then "Whose idea was it to shave your head?" After that he talked about the difference between real-life Steven Colbert and the character. He said the character has to act stupid, and that he would like the chance to sound knowledgeable. He said that he and Jon Stewart talked about trading interview styles one night; he would really enjoy that.

I didn't get that. He doesn't come off as a total idiot on the show. But yes, the interview style is slightly annoying. It seemed the major theme they were trying to hit home was that this is a CHARACTER.

I had my hand up at every opportunity, but I didn't get picked. He answered about 5 questions.

Then they got ready for the show. Heavy, rock and roll music was blasting. 2 security guards were posted; both black men. There were five big cameras, manned by 4 white men and 1 black man. The director was a white guy. Two white guys were standing across the table from him, going over the script, obviously writers. And then two women came out, a Latina and a black woman, to powder his nose and put his mike on.

He was dancing and laughing and making jokes with everyone. When the lady powdered his nose and patted down the stray hairs behind his ear, he mirrored her and pushed her stray hairs back, too, while stroking her head. . . Did I mention how cute he is?

Then it was time to start. The director started counting down with 10. At about 5, Steven yelled out, "Have a good show, everyone." At 3, the director turned to us--the studio audience--and waved his arm over his head--our cue to start whooping and yelling.

If you watched the episode, you would have seen that he used his shoe as a microwave for his burrito. When it cut to the pre-recorded stuff, he was spitting it out and trying to get it all out of his mouth. We, the studio audience, were laughing, which was not a time to laugh on the pre-recorded video. I wonder if that came out on TV?

So what do I take away from this experience?

The man has a lot of energy. Everything was engineered to pump him up. Rock and roll music blared at every break. It kind of reminded me of Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential where he describes all the chefs snorting cocaine before the rush of the pre-theatre crowd. I'm not saying anyone was doing drugs or anything. . .

But then that leads me to think of the times I've been accused, two specifically come to mind, by middle and high school students of smoking crack. (And then being so mean because I didn't share any of it with them.) And having gone through the miserable, demeaning, humiliating process of the job search that for me entailed 16 interviews and 5 demo lessons in front of classes of students I had never met, I have a new respect for performances.

So this led me to wonder what a teacher can learn from Colbert. What would it be like for me to "pump" myself up every morning before school? And then what would it be like to have a whole team of people (and a studio audience) to pump me up while I was at it? Being a teacher is a constant performance, and I have to be "in character"--an adult that teenagers should take seriously. But then again, a classroom isn't a teacher's performance; it's a students' workshop. They do the work; I direct, I coach, I guide, I inspire, blah, blah, blah.

But man, was Colbert ever inspiring? How does someone do that day in and day out? I always thought being a teacher was a hard job. Maybe I should start blaring rock and roll music between class periods.